


Crazy in Love

by steggyisimmortal



Series: Shield and Gun [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AKA how Peggy was shot in the shoulder according to me, F/M, Gen, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steggyisimmortal/pseuds/steggyisimmortal
Summary: Steve remembered everyone getting in the truck, Dugan lying Peggy on the floor bed for Morita could get a look at her.  Red flowed endlessly from her right shoulder.  He felt so helpless staring down at her.  He felt utterly useless while Morita patched her up with everything they had.





	Crazy in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Plot inspired by line:  
>  _"I don’t understand just how your love can do what no one else can."_
> 
> Plot also inspired by prompt sent to me by rachlovesligers on Tumblr

* * *

Steve sipped his coffee.  It tasted like shit but it hit the spot.  It was a cold morning.  The sun was barely over the horizon but the fellas were already up.  He had Dugan to thank for the coffee.  That man couldn’t make it right if his life depended on it.  Not that they liked his coffee any better but Steve preferred his overly strong coffee to the crunchy stuff Dugan made. 

 

From his vantage point at the back of the truck, he could see the remains of the city in the distance.  Steve shook his head at the destruction.  It had been bombed beyond all belief.  That’s why Steve was so surprised Hydra would actually have a base here. 

 

It was supposed to be a simple mission.  It was.  For the most part.  The building they needed was upright in the front but in shambles in the back.  Intelligence reports mentioned the building had seemed abandoned for weeks before Steve and the Commandos showed up.  Steve had felt fine going in but halfway through the building the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  He couldn’t understand what triggered it. 

 

He’d pushed it to the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite shake it.  Everyone was paired up, except for him, so he knew the team was in good hands.  They all had a distinct mission with orders to vacate as soon as it was completed.  Steve, being the most resilient, would travel the deepest into the building in case any Hydra agents were lurking near.  He hadn’t run into any trouble but he hadn’t come across the files he was looking for either. 

 

He was almost out of the building when he heard the gunshots. 

 

Everything seemed to blur together.  Steve ordered Monty to start the truck.  Dernier was at the ready with the explosives.  Steve was just about to take off running towards the sound when Dugan came flying around a corner with Bucky hot on his heels. 

 

Steve remembered the confusion that came over him.  Peggy was with Dugan and Bucky but he didn’t see her tearing ass after Bucky.  Surely she didn’t stay behind to blow some cover fire for them.  That was when he noticed Dugan wasn’t running like he normally did.  Steve estimated they did two hours running for every hour they walked.  He was used to the gait of every person on his team.

 

He didn’t see Peggy because she was lying slack and pale in Dugan’s arms.

 

Everything went black after that. 

 

Steve remembered everyone getting in the truck, Dugan lying Peggy on the floor bed for Morita could get a look at her.  Red flowed endlessly from her right shoulder.  He felt so helpless staring down at her.  He felt utterly useless while Morita patched her up with everything they had.

 

It was almost as useless as he felt now waiting for her to wake up.

 

He glanced back at her lying on the floor of the truck but her breathing hadn’t changed.  Steve had made the decision to leave her there when they made camp.  It was shielded from the elements and he didn’t want to risk her shoulder tearing open again.  Morita was almost out of supplies and they still had to make it back to their temporary base.

 

The guys had vacated the truck and set up camp in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city.  It was a known safe spot, according to Peggy’s notes.  They brought the truck around the back of the building under an awning and set up camp in the inside.  The doors had all been blown off or removed so warning one another was easy.  Monty was on perimeter watch last Steve checked but the area had been quite.  Even the city was quiet of movement and noise. 

 

It didn’t unnerve Steve like the previous night’s mission.  It just made him sad.  Another beautiful city destroyed for what?  A maniac’s dream of “perfection?”  People displaced from their homes – their roots – for a mad man’s cause.  The beauty and the effort put into constructing the homes and buildings – all gone with the push of a button.

 

“Well, this is unpleasant.”

 

Steve started, his coffee sloshing in the cup.  He turned to see Peggy holding her left hand to her forehead.  Tossing his coffee outside, he set the cup down and turned towards her. 

 

“Dugan told me you shot the guy who shot you before you passed out,” he answered. 

 

He grinned at the memory of Dugan’s story.  The pride on the man’s face when he told Steve how Peggy had whipped around and planted a bullet dead center in the enemy’s head, only to turn back around, take one step, and crumple to the ground from her delayed reaction to the pain.

 

She made a displeased sound.  Clearly she was less than amused at her own reaction.

 

Her legs shifted beneath the blanket they’d thrown over her.  He thought she was trying to find a more comfortable position that didn’t irritate her shoulder when he noticed her planting her elbows on the floor.  She started to lift herself when she flopped onto her back and raised a hand in his direction.

 

“Ah, Peg, I don’t think…”

 

“I’m sitting up one way or another.  You can either help me or watch me struggle.” 

 

She waved her hand again before he grabbed it.  He hoisted her upright.  She looked down at her attire, her brow knitting before looking back at him.

 

“We got the jacket off but your shirt was in the way.  Morita had to cut the top but we didn’t have anything to put on you after.  I had an extra one so….” 

 

She gave a perfunctory nod.  He suspected she was trying to will the pain away.  She still looked pale but less so than the night before. 

 

“Mmm, I hope the boys enjoyed the show.”

 

“No one saw anything, Peg,” he assured.  “I did it after they left.  Changed your socks, too.”

 

She wiggled her feet for good measure.  He handed her a canteen of water and waited patiently while she drank.  He offered her another one after she was done.  She sniffed it before making a face and handing it back to him.

 

“I’ll tell Dugan you don’t approve of his painkiller.”

 

“Not right now at least,” she said.  “My stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults at the moment.”

 

Slowly, he watched her inch forward until she was sitting next to him.  He knew better than to tell her to stay where she was.  She wouldn’t listen any more than he would have.

 

She kept the blanket wrapped around her.  It made her look precious but fragile in a way he wasn’t used to seeing her.  She’d been on a few missions with them but the only person that had been remotely injured was himself.  In battle at least.  Dernier was always giving himself small burns when he was trying something new with his explosives.  She was always lecturing them on staying smart and healthy in the field.  The last thing she needed was America’s top squad perishing because they couldn’t change their socks after dredging through muddy water. 

 

“You know, this means I get to lecture you now about taking care of yourself,” he mused, tweaking her foot.

 

She jerked her foot back but her smirk told him she was mildly amused. 

 

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.  “I can assure you I won’t listen.”

 

He chuckled. 

 

They looked out over the city together, sitting in a peaceful silence.  She leaned heavily against him until he was sure he was supporting her entire body weight.  Every once in a while they could hear one of the guys from inside the building but it was their usual inane chatter. 

 

Not for the first Steve wished he was visiting Europe under different circumstances.  It was moments like these - the small, quiet ones with Peggy when they could pretend they didn’t have a care in the world – that Steve treasured most.  Under normal circumstances Steve doubted he would have ever found himself in Europe.  But under normal circumstances he was almost positive he never would have met Peggy.  Was it wrong to be grateful for the same war he was trying to end?

 

How they met wouldn’t matter if one of them went off and got themselves killed, though. 

 

Steve dropped his head to her good shoulder.  “I was so scared, Peggy,” he whispered against her skin.

 

A hand smoothed through his hair.  He felt her lips on the top of his head. 

 

“Now you know how I feel whenever your flair for the dramatics acts up.”

 

He snorted.  “Oh, is that what it is?”

 

“Yes, you’re a terribly dramatic individual.  I don’t know how I put up with you.”

 

“And to think I was about to offer you my last chocolate bar.”

 

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a chocolate bar from his K ration pack.  Her eyes lit up.

 

“I knew you still had one, you liar!” 

 

Peggy started to reach out for it before she snatched her hand back. 

 

Her eyes narrowed at him.  “What’s the catch?”

 

“No catch,” he shook his head, laughing.  “I just thought we could work on my French.”

 

“The language or the kissing?”

 

He pretended to think about it before shrugging his shoulders. 

 

“Eh, dealer’s choice.”  He was certain his smile was giving away his true thoughts on the matter.

 

She grabbed the chocolate bar from his hand before leaning in towards him. 

 

“On va voir,” she said against his lips.

* * *


End file.
